Disclaimer: again, I do not own Les Mis. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, especially Angelica's sass.

September 19th, 1830

Third Person POV:

Having boarded their ship four weeks and a day prior, Angelica and her grandfather have docked on the country of France yesterday. Today, they are meeting the king and trying to get him to change his rule to benefit the lowly people more. Stuck in a sweltering and tight corset, Angelica can barely breathe.

"Marquis de Lafayette and Angelica Laurens-Lafayette. Your majesty, King Louis Philippe, is ready to see you now," the king's advisor declares nobly. The two generations of Lafayette's make their way into the king's throne room, Angelica gaping at the stately yet ostentatious pillars and decor of the room (A/N: ostentatious: characterized by vulgar or pretentious display; designed to impress or attract notice).

"Your majesty," Lafayette starts, dipping his head in a short bow as he can't exactly bow completely from his old age. "My granddaughter and I have come to plead the case of the ever-increasing poor for them in front of you." The king arches an eyebrow.

"You may state your case," he commands majestically but harshly.

"As my granddaughter and I walked through the streets of France, especially in the city of Saint Michelle, we saw beggar upon beggar huddled in alleyways, trying to stay alive," Lafayette begins the case, voice pronouncing each word carefully and calmly.

"And why is this my problem?" the king asks, separating himself from the lowly who are also citizens of France. Angelica, biting her lip to keep from speaking, has reached her breaking point.

"Because they are your people," she declares, eyes alight with compassion and glinting with fury at the man reposed in his throne right before her. "At every street there's an innocent person, maybe even more, about to die yet you and the wealthy do nothing to stop it! When you became king you swore an oath promising to protect and care for your subjects. Not once in that oath did it say that your subjects are only the rich or your subjects aren't the poor." Angelica, with her sass and intelligence, has torn to shreds almost all of the king's argument. King Louis Philippe stares at her with confused yet shocked eyes, trying to calm himself to not stutter and stumble over his words.

"My dear mademoiselle-" the king begins.

"Don't patronize me," Angelica bites out, her grandfather's hand on her arm telling her non-verbally to calm down and not do anything she regrets. "I'm nineteen; I'm not a child anymore. In America, every day there's less and less people on the streets, mostly from Eliza Hamilton's generosity. President Thomas Jefferson sponsors her ideals and helps them flourish rapidly. This is what you should be doing, helping others instead of lazing around your palace and doing whatever the hell it is you're doing here." (A/N: doing whatever the hell it is you're doing in Montichello)

Angelica takes a deep breath, chest heaving with fury and from her impromptu speech that she just delivered. The king's shoulders straighten, appearing taller. "You may not speak to me like that; I am the king and you shall treat me as such." Angelica stares at him incredulously.

"Hopefully not for any longer," she mumbles under her breath so only her grandfather can hear it. The man in question desperately tries not to laugh but lets out a chuckle. The king dismisses them and the Lafayettes, well one Lafayette and one Laurens-Lafayette, leave the throne room, Angelica still muttering curses under her breath. They mostly insult the king, but some insult his mother, father, and anyone who remains loyal to him. In very vulgar language.

"Angelica," Lafayette cuts off her rant, his granddaughter turning to look at him puzzled. "I'm going back to our inn to write a letter to the President. Don't get lost and if anyone attacks you, scream as loudly as you can no matter how unladylike it is." Angelica nods her head and, smiling at her grandfather, goes off to the streets of Saint Michelle. Lafayette returns to the inn, a very special inn called the Café Musain. 

As Angelica meanders the streets, she senses somebody's eyes on her. She tenses up slightly, walking a little faster to attempt to get away. Her eyes dart around, trying to find something to defend herself with but finding nothing. Just then, hands encircle her waist and she jolts, the mysterious person pulling her backwards and into an alley. She backs into the wall, faced with a tall, black haired green eyed man looking at her with an evil glint in his eyes. Looking quickly down the alleyway, she finds no exit. Remembering what her grandfather told her, she opens her mouth and screams loudly, a bloodcurdling scream that echoes throughout the city.

The man walks closer to her, grabbing onto her shoulders and keeping her there. Angelica's petite 5'2 frame leaves no match for this man, who is nearly a foot taller than her and looking like he outweighs her by fifty pounds on a good day. Angelica, realizing she's wearing heels, decides to fight back, scrappily. She brings her leg back and kicks him with all her strength right between the legs. He nearly sinks to the ground right then and there but stays standing, miraculously for him but terribly for Angelica.

"You'll regret that," he mutters to her dangerously as Angelica flinches away. Then, a broken board whacks the man on the back of the head and he collapses to the floor, out cold. Breathing heavily, she turns to her rescuer, who drops the board almost immediately after he hit the still unknown man.

"Are you alright, mademoiselle?" he questions softly, brushing his blonde curls out of his startling blue eyes.

"Y-yes," Angelica stutters, still incredibly terrified of what might have happened to her. "Thank you, monsieur."

"It was no trouble," he assures. "Do you know where you're travelling?"

"My grandfather and I are visiting, so we're staying in an inn. Maybe you've heard of it? The Café Musain?" His eyes widen imperceptibly, worried that the grandfather and granddaughter would hear about the revolution plans and tell the police.

"I've heard of it, yes. Do you know how to get there?" the man asks another question.

"I... think so," she responds uncertainly. The man pushes himself off of the wall he was leaning against.

"I can walk you there, if you want," he offers casually. Angelica smiles up at him.

"That would be nice, thank you." Angelica and the man link arms and they leave the alleyway. "I'm Angelica. And you are?"

"Enjolras," he replies curtly but not rudely. "Just Enjolras."

"Well then, Just Enjolras," Angelica smirks, teasing him, "do you know who that man was?" Enjolras sighs, passing a hand over his slight stubble.

"I don't specifically, but I know somebody who might." Angelica looks confusedly at him. "What?"

"The way you said that sounded like you were part of a gang or something," Angelica laughs softly to herself. Enjolras thinks about the revolution, realizing that they are somewhat a gang and Angelica hit the nail right on the head. She pushes a strand of brown hair behind her ear as the duo reaches the Café. "Thanks for walking me here, monsieur Enjolras." He smiles slightly at her.

"You're welcome, mademoiselle Angelica." They enter the café, a group of men huddled around a specific table. A man with chocolate-brown curls looks up at the entering people and wolf-whistles.

"Damn Enjolras, you never told me you had a girl!!" he cheers happily as Angelica blushes softly.

"I-uhhh-ummm-what?" Enjolras asks almost unintelligibly as the men around them laugh widely.

"You have a girl, don't you? She's pretty," the man winks at Enjolras, who blushes almost immediately after he realizes the man's drift.

"I don't have a girl, Courf," Enjolras sighs. "I just walked her here."

"That's as much as you'll get from him, mademoiselle," another man faux-whispers.

"Ferre!" Enjolras exclaims.

"Christ Enjolras you're almost as red as your jacket," yet another man comments, laughing all the while.

"Bahorel. Stop it," Enjolras commands slightly. Angelica looks around at the men with a raised eyebrow.

"Ooookay then. Sorry, but I need to get up the stairs, soooo..." she trails off as the men part like the Red Sea in front of her. "Thank you." She walks up the stairs, turning slightly to smile gently at Enjolras. "Thanks again, monsieur Enjolras." She disappears up the staircase as the men turn immediately towards Enjolras.

"Tell us about her!!" they pester incessantly as Enjolras wonders why exactly he's friends with this group of fools.

Author's Note: hope you enjoyed! Poor Enjy, being teased by his friends. But I hope you enjoyed Enjy and Angelica meeting for the first time, and also her sass. Vive la France!!

             -Kaylin